


Those Three Words

by meet_me_onthe_equinox



Category: Parks and Recreation, parks and rec
Genre: Crime Fighting, Gillian Flynn, Investigation, Sharp Objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13837824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_me_onthe_equinox/pseuds/meet_me_onthe_equinox
Summary: April Ludgate is a young reporter who specializes in investigative journalism. But sometimes, mere reports are not enough. Not when three kids have been murdered under obscure circumstances. Not when the blame might have fallen on someone innocent. Not even if it happened in a forgotten small town like Pawnee.





	1. The Cop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunabelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunabelle/gifts).



> The premise of this fic is based on the novel Sharp Objects, by Gillian Flynn. That book is probably more worthy of your time than this n_n"

Any other person would have said no, even if any refusal meant earning Mr. Swanson’s eternal dislike. And that man could turn your life into a living hell, should he resolve to. But no one in that editorial office would be interested in going away for who knew how long, to a shithole town in the middle of nowhere, full of sweaty republicans in plaids that would always choose a gun over a bar of soap. Sure the third best-selling newspaper in Washington D.C. had better things to dig into.

But the gist of it wasn’t the location per se. It was the terrible event that had happened there that caught April’s attention, as well as the strong feeling that there was something really strange about the way police had chosen to close the case. Apparently, Mr. Swanson had a similar hunch. After all, he wasn’t the head for nothing. So, when he asked around for someone to cover the story, April was the first and only one to offer. That might as well be worth a promotion, although she would have done it even with no prospects of a higher recognition.

The truth was April had always had a twisted inclination towards the dark. Something about the mounting evil in the world intrigued her for reasons she had never bothered to ask herself. The humanity was capable of doing the most atrocious things, things that made the animal kingdom look like a peaceful heaven in spite of the predator-prey system. And, even though April had no interest in harming others whatsoever, she’d always felt inexorably drawn to it. Thus, the crime section of the _DC Daily_ was nothing but the most suitable job she could have landed. And no kneeling required!

Barely a couple of days after she’d met her boss in his office to finalize the details of the trip, April found herself in a flight to Indianapolis; the line between excitement and nervousness blurring as the plane cruised through the darkest clouds she had ever seen. The two bus rides that took her to Bloomington and dreary Pawnee respectively were even worse, especially due to the awful mix of smells inside. In contrast, once April arrived to her destination, she was pleasantly hit by a vanilla scent that finally put an end to that olfactory nightmare. The clouds above were partly shaded in pink –some candy factory that broke quite a few laws, as April had learned through previous research–, but other than that, the city of Pawnee presented itself as gray as she had expected it to be.

The Four Seasoms Inn was as lame as the spelling of its name suggested. April decided she’d ask the newspaper to rent an apartment for her as soon as that booking expired, but for now, that would have to do. And, for today, April felt like she’d done enough. She was exhausted, and as sweaty as the people she’d shared those buses with. Glad that the shoddy room had running, hot water, she took a shower. She later checked a few notes for the interview she had planned for the next day, and dozed off easily under the stained covers.

* * *

‘‘Hi, huh, hello. Andy Dwyer,’’ Pawnee's chief of police offered April his huge hand, in which hers disappeared. ‘‘Sorry you had to wait. Busy morning today,’’ he chuckled.

‘‘It’s okay.’’

Except it wasn’t. Waiting in a poorly lit room in the company of robbers and drug addicts wasn’t exactly the best way to start one’s day. As much as creepy people fascinated her, most times she preferred to see them through a screen. The other two cops that had ogled her ever since she’d entered the station didn’t help either. At least they’d been too busy eating their breakfast doughnuts to even talk to her, save for the moment the thin one told her she could come inside already. April couldn’t help but notice the powdered sugar stuck on the corners of his mouth when she passed by him.

Now she was finally where she needed to be, and hopefully this Dwyer guy was somewhat more competent than his peers outside. The chief’s office looked pretty much like the ones in the movies: wooden walls, framed medals, and a desk full of papers reporting minor crimes. Petty incidents compared to what had happened on the second of October, April assumed.

‘‘Aren’t your subordinates the ones who deal with junkies and stuff?’’ she dared to ask. ‘‘I mean, did anything serious happen?’’

‘‘Well…’’ Andy scratched the back of his neck. ‘‘Nah, not really. Actually, I fell asleep.’’

Great. So he was another lazy cop among the many lazy cops in the Midwest. Didn’t strike her as a super smart one, either. No wonder his department had probably sent the wrong person to jail. But at least he didn’t look at April like she was a frosted pastry.

‘‘Anyway, what brings you here, Miss…?’’

‘‘Ludgate. April Ludgate.’’

‘‘Right, Ludgate,’’ he tapped the side of his big head, as if to retain her name in there for at least the rest of their conversation. ‘‘How can I help you?’’

‘‘Well, I’m a journalist at the _D.C. Daily_ and-’’

‘‘D.C.?! You came here from Washington?!’’ Andy’s jaw dropped.

‘‘Yeah, why?’’

‘‘Nothing. It’s just… Small towns like this one don’t ever get anyone’s attention. Especially not from important cities.’’

‘‘Well, I’d say what happened here last month did.’’

‘‘Yeah, well… But everyone’s already forgotten about it,’’ he shrugged. ‘‘They gave me a medal, at least.’’

_Undeserved._

‘‘That’s not really true, officer Dwyer,’’ April doodled something on her notepad, but stopped when the shape began to look pretty much like an axe. ‘‘Some of us still wonder about it.’’

‘‘Wonder?’’ he frowned.

‘‘Yes. See, our newspaper…’’ _Avoid corporations. People don’t trust them_. ‘‘ _I_ have found some loopholes in the story. It would be incredibly helpful if you helped me clarify them, since you led the investigation.’’

‘‘Oh, yeah, no problem.’’ _Feed their pride. As simple as that._

‘‘So, your department concluded it was Mrs. Roz Preaker who murdered the triplets, right?’’

‘‘With the feds’ blessing, yes.’’

‘‘Good. So, my first question would be, what reason could a perfectly sane nanny have to do such thing? I mean, she had a great husband, and was a mother herself. With a stable job, many of them, actually, since she worked for several families in this town. Appreciated by everyone. What could possibly have been her motive?’’

‘‘Well, sometimes people go crazy.’’

‘‘Please, don’t use that word.’’ Teenage nicknames should be banned in adult vocabulary. ‘‘Was there something in Roz’s medical history that would make you think so?’’

‘‘No, but…’’ the chief sighed. ‘‘Look, she was the only clear suspect. She had spent the whole day taking care of those children, there was no one else at the house.’’

‘‘Are you sure?’’

‘‘Yes! The Knopes had been out of town since the night before. A friend’s wedding in Seattle. Ms. Preaker fed them that day, and considering the official cause of death-’’

‘‘And where could a nanny from Pawnee, Nowhere, get such a thing as hydrogen cyanide? I mean, it would make sense if she’d planted Hemlock or even Oleanders in her backyard, but the murderer went for something way more sophisticated, didn’t they?’’

Officer Dwyer did seem somewhat uncomfortable now. Even if his tense back and those big, fidgety hands wouldn’t have betrayed him, his sweaty forehead sure did.

‘‘Look, Miss Ludgate-’’

‘‘April.’’

‘‘Okay,’’ he sighed. ‘‘April, there are plenty of junkies around she could have got that poison from.’’

‘‘I seriously doubt their business goes beyond weed and LSD. And I think you know that,’’ April narrowed her eyes, and her piercing look forced his to eventually meet her gaze. ‘‘This goes beyond some mushed apple seeds, after all.’’

‘‘I don’t know…’’

‘‘And then there’s the lack of a solid motive,’’ April shrugged nonchalantly. ‘‘What was Roz’s alibi, anyway?’’

‘‘She said she filled up the bathtub for the kids, and then went downstairs to get them since they wouldn’t respond when she called them. According to her, she found them eating something out of a pink cardboard box.’’

‘‘… that she hadn’t brought herself.’’

‘‘That’s her version of the story, yes.’’

‘‘Well, what if she was telling the truth?’’

April gave him some time to process that new approach. As oblivious as she deemed him, she could tell there was something different about him. Her questions had discomforted him to some extent, and he hadn’t dismissed her yet like any other patronizing sheriff would have.

‘‘You don’t seem to me like the kind of guy who misses out on a chance like this,’’ she concluded after a while. ‘‘Y’know, to investigate further into things, especially when it’s possible that those feds sent the wrong person to prison.’’ April made sure Andy didn’t feel like he was being blamed. People were often better disposed whenever they could see themselves as heroes, even as potential ones.

‘‘I’m not,’’ the man smiled. There was a sense of pride in his voice, almost childish, like a kid who’d had just been dared to jump from the top of the slide. ‘‘Okay, I’m in!’’

‘‘Awesome,’’ April smiled back at him, shaking the hand he offered her for the second time that morning.

‘‘This doesn’t mean that the case is officially open,’’ Andy pointed out, knowingly. He’d turned serious again, as if trying to look professional. ‘‘I suggest we investigate privately until we find clear evidence that Roz is innocent. If at all.’’

‘‘Fair enough.’’

‘‘So, you’ve obviously done your homework,’’ he chuckled, his façade fading again. ‘‘Do you have any suspects?’’

‘‘A few of them, yeah,’’ April half-smiled. God, she loved her job. ‘‘Particularly the triplets’ father. I have this bad feeling about him.’’

‘‘Ben?’’ he scoffed. ‘‘C’mon, that guy wouldn’t harm a fly!’’

‘‘Those are the worst. I don’t know, Leslie has always been pretty successful, hasn’t she? Maybe he was jealous. Many husbands are.’’

‘‘Is that your idea of marriage?’’

‘‘Not mine, but most people’s. Let’s just… go talk to him, okay?’’

The chief pondered it for a second.

‘‘Alright,’’ he agreed.

‘‘Thank you, officer Dwyer.’’

‘‘Andy,’’ he gave her a warm smile. ‘‘Just call me Andy.’’

And, considering they were in for a pretty long investigation, that seemed like the right call. The fewer nonsense, the better. Honestly, April was starting to like this Andy cop.


	2. The Councilman

Indeed, Ben Wyatt was no killer. April’s dislike must have stemmed from something else, or maybe nothing at all, but it didn’t go away even after she and Andy had met him at the Knope-Wyatts’ suburban house. Regardless, the man seemed too weak and devastated to be capable of something like that. He talked wonders about his family, especially about his wife, who apparently was feeling unwell that day. April figured “unwell” and “today” were just lame euphemisms for a whole month of catatonia.

The point was that not only had Ben actually been in Seattle that weekend –he showed them a few pictures, and Leslie herself had never told the police otherwise-, but he didn’t tell anyone else to do the dirty job for him while they were away, as April had suspected. Ben had no proof to support this version, but nor did he have the strength to tell them about it without breaking his composure. April herself had had to cut the interview short just because the pain in that guy’s voice tested the limits of her empathy. And he wasn’t bluffing, that she knew.

Something interesting did come out of their visit. He told them quite a few things about Leslie, beyond the code words. After all, it was probably easier than talking about their killed children. Ben gave them a more detailed description of how things were the month before. Leslie was running for Office at the time; it had always been her dream to become Pawnee’s first councilwoman in history (it only took 21 centuries!). More than her dream, it was her destiny. Or so she’d thought before… Anyway, it was a time of campaigns, fundraising parties, and healthy rivalry between runner-ups.

But what if said competition wasn’t that fair? What if Leslie had made herself some enemies along the way? The death of her triplets had been a subtler way to end her career than murdering Leslie herself would have. Plus, the babysitter would be, and had been, the only suspect in the picture. A couple more questions were enough to get the name of the man Leslie had lost the election to.

* * *

‘‘Oh, my God!’’ Andy shouted from the left side of the vast garden surrounding Bobby Newport’s mansion. ‘‘They have a ball pit!’’

‘‘Awesome,’’ April feigned some enthusiasm, but kept walking towards the double stairs that led to the main door. Unlike Andy, she had zero interest in extravagance. It usually came along with snobbism and idiocy as its side effects.

‘‘Can I just dive in for a sec?’’

Really? How could the safety of the entire town depend on this man? April had definitely chosen the wrong partner. There was no way anyone would take them seriously. April gave him a look that she hoped would be enough to dissuade him… and fortunately, it was.

 

‘‘Morning, guys!’’ Bobby greeted them after one of his butlers led them through to the living room; spacious, with high ceilings and perfectly lit thanks to its many, huge windows. ‘‘Welcome to my place,’’ he smiled at first, but then his expression turned earnest. ‘‘Still feels weird to call it mine.’’

‘‘How so? This place is amazing!’’ Andy looked around.

‘‘It used to be my father’s. But he passed away a couple of months ago.’’

‘‘Mine too,’’ the chief said, putting his hand on Bobby’s shoulder. ‘‘It sucks. Sorry, dude.’’

Since when it was normal to take such confidence with a councilman? April remembered what Andy had told her back in his car while they drove there: Pawnee was a water tower town where everyone knew everybody else. They probably had their own App to make sure couple members weren’t related to each other. These two might as well have played together as kids, but Andy was as much into politics as April was into soap operas, guilty pleasures excluded. Even in small towns, people lose touch.

‘‘Appreciate it. Anyway,’’ Bobby perked up, ‘‘you guys didn’t come here to arrest me, right?’’

‘‘Of course not,’’ Andy chuckled.

‘‘For now,’’ April pointed out, only half-joking.

‘‘And you are…?’’

‘‘Buzz Aldrin, nice to meet you,’’ April held out a hand.

‘‘She’s kidding,’’ Andy laughed. ‘‘She’s April, a journalist from D.C. Can you believe it?’’

‘‘From D.C.? That’s awesome!’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ Andy looked at her proudly, as if he’d been the genius who’d brought her there in the first place. ‘‘We’re just here to talk about… y’know, Knope’s triplets.’’

‘‘Oh,’’ Bobby’s face fell. ‘‘Yeah, what a tragedy. I thought the case was closed, though.’’

‘‘It still is. I just need a couple more details for my article. You know, not just the facts, but the human side of the story.’’

Oh, yeah. She was an excellent liar too.

‘‘Actually, we’re-’’ Andy began, but she elbowed him before he could go any further. Suspects weren’t supposed to know they were considered as such. God, could he be any more clueless?

‘‘Sure,’’ Bobby agreed. ‘‘Please, take a seat,’’ he gestured at the two massive, red velvet couches in the middle of the room.

Andy and April did as told, and another butler came out of the blue carrying a tray with three glasses and a bottle of wine.

‘‘Oh, no thank you,’’ Andy refused. ‘‘I can’t drink on duty.’’

Well, at least at times, he was actually professional. But April wasn’t one for saying no to free alcohol. Especially when she had to talk to strangers, and all the more if there was a chance those strangers were actual murderers.

‘‘So,’’ April took the initiative. ‘‘How would you describe your relationship with Leslie?’’

‘‘Well, to be honest, we didn’t start on the right foot. A couple of years ago, she tried to withdraw our NutriYum bars from the market.’’

‘‘His family owns the Sweetums factory,’’ Andy noted for her. ‘‘But, why? Those bars are terrific!’’

‘‘I don’t know, something about them containing too much sugar or something. When has sugar ever hurt anybody?’’

‘‘Uh-huh.’’

‘‘Did you ever make amends?’’ April asked, the notebook on her lap still blank.

‘‘Yeah… After my father died. We were both running against each other for Office… And I was about to give up for good after he passed.’’

‘‘What changed that?’’

‘‘Leslie did. She came to my house to check on me. She was very supportive, and helped me gather the strength to keep on campaigning,’’ Bobby looked up with misty eyes. ‘‘Such a great, great woman.’’

‘‘But, as nice as she was,’’ April tried her best to be delicate, even though that wasn’t exactly one of her attributes, ‘‘don’t you think she might have made a few enemies along the way?’’

‘‘Maybe, I don’t know. I mean, some of the other councilmen are real jerks, but I don’t think any of them would-’’ he paused, lost for the right words to describe such atrocity.

‘‘How did you find out about it?’’ April avoided asking what he’d been doing directly. Then she took a sip from her glass. It most likely was the expensive kind, but she couldn’t really tell the difference.

‘‘Well, I was taking a break from all the campaigning and stuff. I figured I owed myself some quality time with my Wii,’’ he laughed at his own joke. ‘‘I’ve got this bowling game… I love it. You can even customize your own avatar. ’’

‘‘Awesome!’’ Andy’s jaw dropped. ‘‘Can we play?’’

‘‘Let him finish!’’ April gave her partner a nudge.

‘‘It’s okay. I got a call from my campaign manager then. She was the one who told me,’’ Bobby downed his glass, as if trying to erase all memories regarding that night.

‘‘Well, I think that’ll be all,’’ April jotted down the last part of their conversation, still not really sure about this guy. If only there was a way to verify that alibi… ‘‘Thank you for your time, Mr. Newport.’’

Andy looked disappointed. He’d probably expected to find something more revealing on their first day of investigation. But April knew first hand things didn’t work that way.

‘‘So,’’ the chief remained seated. ‘‘No Wii then?’’

April rolled her eyes. Of course that was what he was upset about; she shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Yet, for the first time, she found his childishness somewhat endearing. Incompetent, yes, but sweet too.

‘‘Oh, totally,’’ Bobby smiled. ‘‘We can play if you want. I mean, I have this place all to myself; sometimes it gets really lonely. I could use some company.’’

‘‘Are you kid-?’’ April began, right before the epiphany came to her. Saved games. By having access to Newport’s Nintendo, she could check the dates on which he actually played that game. She only needed Andy to distract Bobby for a moment. April’s heart and head went frantic as she silently planned every detail of it.

‘‘April?’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ she focused on her surroundings again. ‘‘Sure, let’s play.’’

* * *

‘‘Well, here we are,’’ Andy pulled into the parking lot by the Four Seasoms.

‘‘Yup,’’ April unbuckled her seatbelt. ‘‘Thanks for the ride.’’

‘‘No problem.’’

April gave the lot a once-over. There was no one around, save for a couple of girls sharing a smoke near the inn’s entrance. The cold didn’t seem to bother them despite their short skirts and plunging necklines.

‘‘Sure you’re gonna be okay in there?’’ Andy asked.

‘‘Yeah,’’ she gave him a warm smile. ‘‘I mean, it’s creepy, but I kinda like it.’’

‘‘Sure,’’ he smiled back at her. ‘‘Just call me if you need anything,’’ Andy grabbed his wallet and took a small card out of it. ‘‘This is my personal number. Way more reliable than 911.’’

April’s smile widened as she pocketed the card, and she rolled in her lips instinctively.

‘‘Thank you. And thanks again for agreeing to do this.’’

‘‘You are welcome. It’s been quite fun so far.’’

‘‘Yeah… Bobby’s game wasn’t as lame as I thought it’d be.’’

‘‘Good thing he isn’t a killer, though. I might wanna come back.’’

‘‘Great job distracting him, by the way,’’ April chuckled at the memory of Andy showing the councilman his karate moves.

‘‘I knew being a Black Belt would come in handy at some point.’’

‘‘You are?’’

‘‘Well, I made one myself,’’ he admitted.

April laughed again. It’d been a while since the last time she’d been so relaxed around someone, and even longer since she’d smiled so many times in a day. It felt weird, almost like it wasn’t right.

‘‘Anyway,’ she sighed. ‘‘Good night, Andy.’’

‘‘Good night.’’

April got out of the car and walked past those two girls. She couldn’t help but wonder about the kind of life they led, and what sort of conversations they held on a daily basis. April wasn’t sure if she pitied or envied them. The truth was she felt that way about everybody.

* * *

‘‘There must be a mistake,’’ April was starting to lose her patience. ‘‘Please, check it again.’’

‘‘There isn’t,’’ the receptionist at the Four Seasoms pointed at the computer screen. She pretty much looked like a former diner waitress that had been fired after having the nerve to age too soon. Too much alcohol might have had something to do with the matter. ‘‘Your booking was for just one night, as all are.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Each reservation can only be made for one night,’’ the woman rolled her eyes. ‘‘That’s our policy.’’

‘‘That makes no sense!’’

‘‘Look, ma’am. Most of our clients only want to spend one night without anyone ever knowing anything about it. So, calls are short, and the length of stay is implied unless people tell us otherwise.’’

 _Damnit,_ _Human Resources_.

‘‘Don’t you have another room available?’’

‘‘I’m afraid not,’’ the woman said apologetically, yet the fakeness in her tone didn’t go unnoticed by April. ‘‘The week after Thanksgiving is one of our busiest.’’

‘‘How so?’’ Weren’t visitors supposed to be gone by then?

‘‘Well, people tend to get pretty worn out by their families during the holidays. They often need some kind of… release afterwards.’’

In that moment, the chimes at the door rattled as it opened. April turned to see who was coming in: a man in a suit and who was probably his mistress. April recognized she was one of the two girls she’d seen outside. The man, who seemed much older than his companion, kept a firm grip on her waist.

‘‘Room 208,’’ the receptionist said simply as she handed him an old key.

The couple went upstairs without a word.

‘‘Okay,’’ April grimaced. ‘‘I get it now.’’

That place had gone from creepy to disgusting real quick.

‘‘Sorry.’’

‘‘You better be,’’ the journalist lashed out. Just when she was starting to like that town, stupid, nasty people were undoubtedly bound to ruin it. ‘‘Your policy sucks. Also, don’t you ever call me ma’am again.’’

Not that she was ever going to have the chance to. April left the building, infuriated to say the least. She was going to let the entire office have it for their incompetency, even though she wasn’t exactly in a position where she could freely scold her peers. Not yet at least. But maybe that article would change things.

In any case, how was she supposed to get anything worth writing if she didn’t even have a place to stay? Maybe she could call Mr. Swanson about it, but April knew she would take it out on him, even if none of it was his fault. She was just too angry to think properly or act civilly, and calling her boss would probably lead to April getting herself fired.

A quick search on her phone was enough to check there weren’t any other hotels in that shitty town. Nowhere to go, no one to call.

Except for maybe one person.


	3. The Babysitter

For a cop that lived alone and paid no mind to order or keeping the house clean, Andy’s place wasn’t that bad. In fact, there was something about it that had April feeling even more comfortable than she did in her own house. For starters, the silence wasn’t so obvious –Andy’s snores buzzing through the thin wall between their separate rooms, and then the TV’s background noise and birds chirping in the morning were soothing enough to make her feel safe. And then there was that queen size bed in Andy’s guest room, maybe too big for her, maybe too cold, but still so cozy and soft she indulged herself by just lying there after she woke, as if both the investigation and her whole life could be put on hold for a while.

When she finally got up, she found Andy on the couch, eating from a bowl of cereal as he watched some cartoons on the TV. He was wearing nothing but boxers and an old T-shirt from some college he presumably hadn’t ever set foot in. April didn’t care for it. In fact, she found the view quite enjoyable.

‘‘Morning,’’ he smiled at her.

‘‘Morning,’’ April forced herself to look him in the eye.

‘‘There’s more cereal in that cabinet,’’ Andy said in a mouthful. ‘‘Milk’s in the refrigerator, of course. Sorry I don’t have much else to offer,’’ he smiled apologetically.

‘‘I assume you don’t have any tea? Or fruit?’’

‘‘Never heard of them,’’ he jested.

‘‘Okay…’’

 _Screw it_. April grabbed a bowl from the counter and fixed herself the same breakfast as Andy’s. She then sat next to him, never really paying attention to the screen in front of them, but instead thinking about the best way to continue their quest from that point on. Still, there was a part of her brain that got caught up in the idea that they must have looked pretty much like a married couple, if seen from the outside. The cool kind, though.

And even though they had barely spent 24 hours together, for some reason she felt like they’d known each other for way longer than that. Of course he’d made her feel frustrated, desperate, maybe even disappointed at times in the course of the investigation. But she also felt at ease, relaxed, excited about something for the first time in so long. So, there was really no reason to let stupid notions of politeness spoil that.

‘‘It’s cool that you’re staying here,’’ Andy piped up. He kept staring at the screen, which again made things easier.

‘‘Yeah, thanks for letting me crash.’’

‘‘No problem. You can stay for as long as you need.’’

Now he was looking at her, with that bright smile on his face that April had grown to know so well in so little time. She wondered if such hospitality was a countryside idiosyncrasy or just an Andy thing.

‘‘Thank you,’’ she smiled at him, genuinely grateful that she didn’t have to call her office so they would rent an apartment for her or something. Now that April thought about it, she didn’t recall having seen any buildings more than three stories since her arrival to Pawnee.

‘‘So,’’ he took a last sip from his bowl and placed it on the small coffee table in front of them. ‘‘How’s life in D.C.?’’

He was trying to make small talk, or so April figured. Except he looked genuinely interested, as if she’d come from another planet where people drove spaceships instead of cars, and ate fruit instead of lethal Lucky Charms.

‘‘Well, there’s not much to say about it, really,’’ she shrugged. ‘‘We cover the usual episode of domestic violence, maybe some robbery now and then… But we rarely get to solve any cases per se. This one, though-’’

‘‘Oh, I wasn’t asking job-wise,’’ Andy interrupted. ‘‘I meant _life_.’’

April hesitated. Being comfortable around that teddy bear of a cop was one thing. Fully opening up to him was something very different. But wasn’t the former a requirement for the latter? The very thing that paved the way for further revelations? Maybe she could meet him halfway.

‘‘I don’t know, I usually like to stay in. Workdays are pretty tiring.’’

‘‘D’you live alone, too?’’

Hadn’t it been for that _too_ at the end, she would have thrown the content of her bowl to his face right then. But somehow that word had endowed the conversation with a non-judgmental atmosphere April could easily dive in.

‘‘In a matter of speaking, I always have,’’ she stirred the soggy cereal just to have something to look at.

‘‘What about your family?’’ he spoke softly. ‘‘I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.’’

‘‘It’s okay.’’ And, for once, it was. ‘‘I grew up with my foster parents, but one of them died, and the other… Well, he didn’t handle the loss very well.’’

‘‘Where is he now?’’

‘‘The Sisters of Quiet Mercy,’’ April stared at the TV screen, her eyes unfocused, and the colors mixed up together until none of the characters had a distinguishable shape. ‘‘It’s a psychiatric hospital in Baltimore. I go visit him once a month or so.’’

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ Andy’s hand reached for hers, but froze midway before he could even touch her. He placed the hand back in his lap, and April wondered whether or not she would have actually minded that sort of comfort. She found no clear answer to that. ‘‘What happened to your real parents, though?’’

Okay, that was enough. The policeman was just curious, caring even, but that part of her life was off-limits. Even to herself, the ambiguity of it all, the context and the possible side effects on her… It was just too complex for April to understand or analyze, let alone to express out loud.

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ Andy grabbed the controller and turned off the TV. April welcomed the following silence, something she wasn’t aware she needed until those cartoons faded to black. ‘‘We don’t have to talk about it.’’

‘‘Thank you,’’ April looked at him again. She realized now his eyes were actually green, and not brown as they appeared in the distance. ‘‘What about you? What do you do in this super fun town?’’ she deadpanned.

Andy chuckled, getting the sarcasm for a change. ‘‘Well, I’m in a band,’’ he said proudly.

‘‘Really? What are you guys called?’’

‘‘Mouse Rat.’’

‘‘That’s a terrible name,’’ April laughed.

‘‘Still better than the ones we came up with when we first started,’’ he laughed too.

‘‘I don’t think I want to hear those,’’ she finished up her breakfast and put the bowl beside Andy’s. ‘‘What else are you into?’’

‘‘Dog training.’’

‘‘Shut up!’’ April gasped.

‘‘It’s true! When I became chief, and even before that, I realized being a cop was pretty much all about paperwork. Super boring,’’ he rolled his eyes. ‘‘So I decided we could use some K9s in our squad if I trained them myself.’’

‘‘That’s amazing.’’

‘‘It is! You should meet Champion one day. He’s the best dog we have, and he’s only got three legs.’’

Honestly, that sounded great. _One day_ had made it seem like she would be staying for long. And even though there wasn’t a single thing about Pawnee that she could possibly find appealing, that life of playing detectives with Andy was something April wouldn’t mind extending. And that Champion dog? She couldn’t wait to meet him. But they had things to do first.

‘‘Sounds awesome,’’ April leaned back on the couch. ‘‘But before that, we need to figure this out.’’

‘‘This?’’

‘‘Ugh, the triplets’ murder!’’ she kicked his side playfully.

‘‘Oh, right! Yeah…’’ he frowned. ‘‘But what should we do next?’’

‘‘Hmm… I was thinking of what Bobby said. You know, about the other councilmen?”

“He said they wouldn’t do something like that.”

‘‘Well, if there’s something you and Newport have in common-’’

‘‘-is that we love Nintendo games,’’ Andy interrupted.

‘‘Besides that. You both believe people can be good. That everyone is.”

“Until my men or my police dogs find evidence to the contrary, yes.”

He was talking like a cop again. For some reason, April loved that. Maybe she felt a little less alone in this just by knowing he could take it seriously too.

‘‘The thing is, we don’t know them.’’

‘‘I do! Councilman Milton and my grandma were Homecoming King and Queen like a hundred years ago. They split up shortly after, though.’’

‘‘Yeah, whatever. You might know who he is, but do you know how he thinks? How he feels about things? What he would be capable of?’’

‘‘At his age, not much,’’ he chuckled. This time, April didn’t laugh with him. ‘‘But point taken.’’

‘‘I think we should talk to him,’’ April went on. ‘‘To all the councilmen, really. Do you have a list of them?’’

‘‘Nope,’’ he pursed his lips. ‘‘Oh, but I can talk to councilman Howsler. He’s, like, the most important one.’’

‘‘It’s a start. C’mon, let’s go to City Hall.’’

* * *

After a brief encounter with Howsler in the hallway, April had all the names they needed on her notepad. They started with Milton, whose office was located on that same floor. No wonder Andy’s grandmother had been soon fed up with that man: he was a grade A racist, and from the way he’d patronized April during the interview, probably a sexist, too. But he could barely stand for more than two minutes. The half-corpse’s eyesight wasn’t at its finest either, considering he almost added a bottle of white-out to his Caesar salad instead of the proper dressing right next to it. So much for a murderer. If anything, he might have been the one behind the orders. But that didn’t seem likely – Milton would never have seen Leslie as a threat because he didn’t believe she could win the election anyways. Sometimes assholes are nothing more than that.

‘‘That went well,’’ Andy said as they closed the office door behind them. ‘‘Except I don’t think we came to any conclusion?’’

‘‘Let’s leave Milton out for the moment,’’ April sighed, still annoyed at the old man.

‘‘Okay… Who’s next?’’

‘‘Hmm...’’ April checked her notes. ‘‘Jeremy Jamm.’’

‘‘Sweet.’’

They found Jamm’s office on the second floor, but no one would answer the door. Andy took the liberty of trying to open it (cops can do anything, can’t they?), but it was locked.

‘‘Hey, Tom!’’ Andy turned to a smartly dressed, short man that passed them by. ‘‘You know where Jamm is?’’

‘‘Andrew My-man-drew!’’ the asked one greeted him. Midwesterns were indeed strange creatures. ‘‘How are you? And who’s this sexy little lady right here? Hi, I’m Tom Haverford, from the Parks Department. Among other things.’’

Tom spread out a hand, the way classic gentlemen do – he’d kiss hers the moment April offered it. Which of course, she didn’t. How many jerks did that building have per square mile?

‘‘We’re looking for Jeremy Jamm,’’ she said sternly. ‘‘Do you know where he is or not?’’

‘‘Well,’’ Tom placed his hand inside his pocket, equally annoyed and surprised by her lack of interest in him. ‘‘If he’s not at the Council Chamber, he must be down his dental clinic torturing someone.’’

Andy frowned, probably believing every word.

‘‘I’m kidding!’’ Tom smiled dumbly. ‘‘Anyway, gotta go, you guys. See you around!’’

‘‘God, I hate him so much,’’ April muttered when he was out of sight. ‘‘I hate everyone here.’’

‘‘We’re not that bad…’’ Andy looked down. The sadness in his tone was so not him, it made April’s stomach churn.

‘‘Oh, not you, Andy!’’ she cupped his cheek instinctively. ‘‘You are pretty cool, actually,’’ she gave him the warmest smile she could manage.

Andy’s gaze met hers, and after a quick reading, he smiled too.

‘‘Really?’’

‘‘Yes. Now, where’s that clinic Tom was talking about?’’

* * *

Jamm’s torture headquarters were only a couple of blocks away, so they easily covered the distance by walking. Once in the waiting room, Andy entertained himself with the pastime games in the magazines. Mazes were his favorite, but he had some trouble spotting differences between similar pictures. Watching him solving those was riveting in a way, to the point where April forgot why they were even there in the first place, at least until a slender man with afro hair stepped into the room. He was wearing a white coat, but the utter disdain in his expression was too harsh for a doctor.

‘‘Can I help you?’’ the man said in a tone that didn’t sound helpful at all. But after years of interviewing people, April was experienced enough to know aggressive attitudes were nothing but attempts to hide intimidation. Maybe Andy’s uniform had been the trigger. Maybe the councilman/dentist had more things to hide.

‘‘Yeah,’’ Andy stood up, and April followed suit. ‘‘We are looking for Jeremy Jamm.’’

‘‘It’s me. Is there something wrong, chief?’’

‘‘No, not really. April Ludgate here is covering what happened at the Knope-Wyatts’ place last month.’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ April went on. She tried to keep her voice from betraying the mutual dislike. ‘‘And we figured you could make a great contribution to the story.’’

‘‘Look, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got another two clients coming, and then I’m picking up my new Lamborghini. Not to brag, but it’s awesome, and it’s gonna get me all the chicks I want in this town. So, no can do,’’ he shrugged, blatantly showing that he couldn’t care less.

‘‘But-’’

‘‘You don’t have an order, right?’’

‘‘No,’’ Andy answered.

‘‘Then you can’t make me do anything,’’ Jamm smiled cockily. ‘‘Sorry, folks. See you around!”

And just like that, Jamm went back inside, followed by the next client that apparently had been sitting there the whole time.

‘‘Great,’’ April sighed.

‘‘Don’t worry,’’ Andy rubbed her shoulder. The question April had asked herself earlier that morning found its answer in his solace. ‘‘We still have another suspect to go.’’

* * *

The first time April saw councilman Dexhart, she was struck by the familiarity of his features and overall build. Soon enough, she recognized the man from the previous night at the Four Seasoms. Now that she thought about it, he looked exactly like the kind of man who would do something like that, behind his wife’s back and at the expense of a girl who’d been a child not that long ago. Assuming she had had such thing as a childhood, that is.

Dexhart’s secretary had set the meeting at a fancy restaurant on the North side of the town, with round, mahogany tables and mushy chairs veneered in maroon velvet. Both April and Andy ordered pasta anyways.

‘‘It’s such a shame what happened to Leslie,’’ Dexhart said as he chewed a piece of raw steak. A drop of red blood from the meat slid down the corner of his mouth before he wiped it off with a cloth napkin. ‘‘She used to be a passionate woman. And not only when it came to work, if you know what I mean,’’ he smirked.

‘‘I don’t,’’ April said.

‘‘We have a history. Let’s leave it at that.’’

‘‘You mean when she proved on live TV you guys never had an affair in the first place?’’ Andy asked.

‘‘Well, that’s her version of the story. But that’s neither here or there, is it?’’

‘‘It depends. Do you still resent her for it?’’ April asked.

‘‘Wait…’’ Dexhart scowled. ‘‘Are you investigating me for what happened? Is this newspaper thing just a scam?’’

‘‘It’s not,’’ April denied. ‘‘I’m really working on that article. Why are you so defensive, though?’’ Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Andy staring at her, seemingly mesmerized at the way April was conducting the conversation.

‘‘Look,’’ the councilman sighed. ‘‘That scandal was two years ago. And honestly, I’m not one for grieving or having any grudges when it comes to women. I just… enjoy a good company whenever I have the chance, you know?’’

‘‘Just to clear things up,’’ Andy said after swallowing his last bite of spaghetti. ‘‘Where were you the night of October 2nd ?’’

Dexhart still seemed frustrated about the whole trap, but at least he was smart enough to know the sooner he gave them answers, the sooner they would leave him alone. After all, police isn’t dreaded nationwide for no reason. Jamm must have been a shady exception.

‘‘I was… I was with my kids’ nanny.’’

‘‘At the Four Seasoms?’’

‘‘No. We went to her place. Evanston Ave, 23. You can ask her.’’ Dexhart ran one hand through his perfectly combed hair, messing it up a bit as he took a sip of wine. ‘‘Please, don’t tell my wife. Or anyone. Some of my relationships, I do like to keep them private.’’

‘‘We won’t,’’ Andy reassured him. He then threw an eye over April’s plate, which was only half empty. April shook her head, a silent message that she wasn’t eating any more than what she already had. ‘‘Thank you for meeting us, Mr. Dexhart. And for the meal.’’

For some reason, Andy had assumed Dexhart would be paying for them all. April deemed it fair –that man had to pay in some way for the simple fact of existing-, and followed suit when the cop got up.

* * *

With that address jotted down on April’s notepad, there was still a way to really prove whether Dexhart’s version was true or not. And they _needed_ to make sure, considering it had come from a man who lied for a living, both in and out the City Hall Chamber. Thus, April figured they would pay that babysitter a visit.

The woman lived at a residential house, much like the ones in Leslie’s neighborhood. It was just as pretty (boring?) on the outside, but the mess behind that façade took Andy and April by surprise. Amy, as they later learned was her name, was just as disheveled herself. It was like she had the money to take care of things, but lacked the time or even the motivation to remove those dirty clothes from all over the place, or even washing her hair.

The two were invited to come in, though. Once in the living room, Amy served them some tea and pastries, which Andy devoured whilst April wondered when those cups had last been washed.

‘‘Yeah, I was with Dexhart that night,’’ Amy said, lighting herself a cigar. The bones under her cheeks stuck out when she took the first drag. ‘‘Why do you wanna know? I mean, the case is closed, right? Preaker did it.’’

‘‘Yes, but-’’

‘‘Do you know Mrs. Preaker?’’ April interrupted before he slipped.

‘‘Uh-huh,’’ Amy exhaled. ‘‘That bitch better stay in jail for the rest of her life.’’

‘‘Were you two friends before that night, though?’’

‘‘What?’’ the older woman looked at them as if that was just unthinkable. ‘‘That woman is the worst person I have ever met! She would steal all my clients. I don’t know how she did that. I guess not all of us can pretend to be all smiles 24/7.’’

‘‘But you were still working for Dexhart, right?’’ Andy piped up. ‘‘I assume Roz Preaker didn’t steal them all?’’

‘‘Turns out, most men won’t fire you if you offer them something else.’’

Andy frowned, puzzled. April didn’t need any extra information.

* * *

They were back where it all started. Only two days had passed, but to April it seemed like it’d been weeks since they had first met just there, in Andy’s office. Again, they were sitting across each other, yet it felt like they’d never been closer. Andy leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, both elbows resting on his knees.

‘‘I’m the worst cop ever!’’ he grunted.

‘‘We still don’t know for sure if Amy did it.’’

‘‘C’mon, April. Every parent in this town wanted Roz to work for them. Getting her in jail was the best way for Amy to win her clients back.’’

‘‘Yeah, but in that case… why would she tell us all of that? If Amy was the real murderer, I don’t think she would go around town talking shit about Preaker and compromising herself so obviously.’’

‘‘I guess,’’ Andy let out a deep breath. ‘‘So, where does that leave us?’’

‘‘I don’t know,’’ she shrugged. ‘‘I’m still suspicious about Jamm, though.’’

‘‘Maybe we should try and talk to him again tomorrow.’’

‘‘Yeah… Or maybe we could just follow him. See if we can find something out about him.’’

Andy smiled wide, excited about the idea. And, what was more important, hopeful for the first time that night.

‘‘Wow. You are so smart.’’

‘‘And you are not the worst cop ever,’’ she smiled back. ‘‘In fact, you are the best I’ve met.’’

‘‘Thanks, April,’’ Andy kept smiling, his cheeks sweaty and a little blushed. ‘‘I’m so glad you…’’ he paused, at a loss for the right words. ‘‘…came to Pawnee,’’ he said finally.

‘‘Me too, Andy,’’ April looked down, because she had not heard more unlikely words come from her mouth. ‘‘Me too.’’


	4. The Mogul

It had not occurred to foresighted Andy that he would run out food somewhat faster with an extra person in the house. Not that April ate a whole lot, but the cop’s kitchen wasn’t much stocked up to begin with. So, before she knew it, April was sitting on the passenger seat of Andy’s police car, eating a pink glazed doughnut as if she was a cop herself. They weren’t so bad, if she had to be honest. A pair of takeaway cups of coffee completed their breakfast as they waited outside some abandoned building Jeremy Jamm had led them to, unbeknownst to him. They had parked a couple of blocks behind, just in case.

‘‘Seriously, where are we?’’ April asked, wrinkling her nose at the unpleasant mix of smells coming in through the air vents of the car. ‘‘Pawnee’s creepy parking lots are one thing, but this place seems actually…’’

‘‘… dangerous?’’ Andy finished for her. ‘‘Yeah, this is called the Warehouse district. Don’t ask me what its original name was,’’ he chuckled. ‘‘I’m pretty sure no one in town knows anymore.’’

‘‘Ugh, I can’t see anything from here.’’

‘‘I don’t think we should come in, though. Look! Someone’s coming,’’ Andy pointed across the street, where a fancy black car with tinted side windows pulled over.

The engine kept running as an old man with white, combed back hair got off the back seat. For a few seconds, April thought it was Councilman Milton, yet his features got less and less familiar as he approached the main door of the building. Plus, he could walk properly without the aid of a cane.

‘‘Who’s that?’’ April whispered.

‘‘That’s…’’ Andy looked shocked. ‘‘That’s my doctor.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Doctor Saperstein,’’ the policeman shook his head. ‘‘What is he doing here?’’

Andy and April watched as Saperstein entered the building, where Jamm awaited for him. The black sedan left the scene right then.

‘‘Screw it,’’ April muttered, and, without asking for her partner’s permission, got out of the car and jogged to the other side of the street, her knees slightly bent to avoid being seen should any of those men look outside the window.

April could see Andy staring at her with a confused look. It made her smile, even in that situation, even with her heart pounding frantically as she put the whole investigation at risk. What was she doing, really? Maybe the desire to know more was playing against her better judgment. But again, when hadn’t it?

April reached the façade, pressed her back against it and slid stealthily towards the window. Her head barely reached the sill, but she could peep inside by tiptoeing. When she did, she found Jamm and Saperstein talking in the middle of a small room with strange graffiti painted all over the walls. The two men stood only a few feet from each other. They were back facing her, but still most of the uttered words reached April’s ears clearly.

‘‘All right, quack,’’ Jamm said. ‘‘Those votes are yours.’’

‘‘Excellent,’’ the Doctor smiled and rummaged in the inner pocket of his coat. He took out a yellowish envelope, which Jamm grabbed with greedy hands. ‘‘So, how long till that land is officially mine?’’

‘‘Well, it’s a slow process, actually,’’ Jamm counted the money and then put it back inside the envelope. ‘‘First we need to evict those families from the building. But after all the paperwork is done, you might as well turn it into a mall. I couldn’t care less.’’

‘‘It’s a clinic, Jamm.’’

‘‘Whatever.’’

April bent down right before Jamm turned around to leave. Her fight instinct might not have been much well developed, but she had always had a gift for flight. In a matter of seconds, she’d run down and across the street, and was hopping in Andy’s car, slamming the door with the strength adrenaline tends to endow humans with whenever necessary.

‘‘Hey, be careful!’’ Andy protested.

‘‘They’re coming out,’’ April panted. ‘‘You sure they won’t notice us here?’’

‘‘Well, they didn’t see us when they arrived, so… Anyway, what happened?’’

‘‘Saperstein paid Jamm some money,’’ April managed to say through her heavy breathing. ‘‘Corruption.’’

As she spoke, Jamm came outside that dilapidated building and got into his own car - no private driver for the Councilman.

‘‘Should we follow him?’’ Andy asked.

‘‘Nah, let’s wait for the other.’’

 _The other_ came out only a couple of minutes later. He then grabbed his phone and texted something. Not long after, the same car from before appeared down the street, picked him up and drove off around the corner, the tires shrieking with the sharp turn.

 ‘‘Let’s see where he’s going,’’ April buckled up.

‘‘This is insane!’’ Andy turned the engine on. The excitement in his tone reflected April’s.

‘‘We’re so close, Andy. I just know we are.’’

* * *

‘‘Holy crap!’’ Andy exclaimed, checking the menu. ‘‘This place is expensive.’’

‘‘Any restaurant with the word ‘Bistro’ in its name is,’’ April rolled her eyes at Tom’s snobbism in a town that just couldn’t afford any sign of superiority. ‘‘Not a problem for our man, though.’’

April pretended to read the menu. Her eyes, wide between her fringe and the edge of the card, watched Saperstein as he ate a plate of roast beef  -seriously, what was with Pawneeans and beef?-  at a table across the room. Tom himself, instead of some random waiter, showed up to take the order. Except he sat in front of him, and both held what seemed like an idle, amicable conversation. After a while, Tom stood up, shook the doctor’s hand and headed back to the kitchen.

‘‘Tom seems really popular,’’ April piped up.

‘‘Yeah, he’s awesome,’’ Andy said cheerfully. ‘‘And super rich, too. He owns like a dozen businesses.’’

‘‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’’

‘‘That we should leave and go to JJ’s instead?’’

‘‘No!’’ she rolled her eyes. ‘‘He must have connections. Maybe Tom could be our next source of intel.’’

‘‘That’s true. Well, we’ve known each other for quite long,’’ Andy shrugged. ‘‘Talking to him won’t be a problem.’’

‘‘Actually…’’ April bit her lip. How could she put that without offending him in any way? He’d proven too be quite sensitive the last time she hadn’t been careful. ‘‘I was thinking, maybe I could do this one alone?’’

‘‘Why?’’ he frowned.

‘‘Well, Tom doesn’t know who I am, and-’’

‘‘But you guys met.’’

‘‘We didn’t tell him why I am here, remember? I could say I’m writing an article on… Indiana’s 35 most successful moguls under 35 or something. I’ll know how to make him speak.’’

‘‘Okay,’’ his face softened. ‘‘But again, why shouldn’t I go with you?’’

‘‘It would be weird to have a cop there, don’t you think? It’s supposed to be just a stupid interview.’’

April winked at him, something she had never done, ever, with anyone. But that seemed to have reassured Andy, so she guessed it was worth it.

‘‘I’m gonna find Tom inside and ask him for a meeting,’’ she stood up. ‘‘Then we are leaving to that JJ’s place you talk about,’’ she sighed. ‘‘I’m not paying for anything here.’’

* * *

‘‘Well, of course there’s Tom’s Bistro,’’ the mogul gestured at the tables around them. April had agreed to meet Tom at that pretentious restaurant she so much despised. But whatever would rock his socks would also make him spill the beans, as long as he’d be comfortable. ‘‘I’d always wanted to own a super classy restaurant,’’ he went on. ‘‘Came up with the name myself, back when I only worked at the Parks Department.’’

‘‘Impressive. What else?’’ April feigned a smile.

‘‘I also own two fast casual eateries, and the Tommy Chopper. They serve chopped salads out of a decommissioned military helicopter.’’

Okay, that was actually really cool.

‘‘You must have made a lot of money by then. I mean, those are expensive business to set up.’’

‘‘Yeah. What can I say? Guess I was meant to be an awesome entrepreneur,’’ he chuckled. ‘‘Please, don’t write that I said that. But do note down that I’m awesome.’’

It took everything in April not to roll her eyes just then. That man already thought her rude, after their first encounter at City Hall. But playing nice now would give her answers – Tom would probably assume finding out about his wealth might have changed her mind, and now she was drooling like the others, of course. _Feed their ego, get whatever you want._

‘‘So, what made Tom’s Bistro so successful in the first place?’’

‘‘Well, we’ve always served amazing desserts.’’

‘‘Such as…?’’

‘‘Hey, Andres!’’ Tom turned to where the kitchen door was. ‘‘Bring us some Tommy’s Pastries, would you?’’

‘‘You got it!’’ the waiter’s voice came in response.

‘‘But the biggest hit was the Unity Concert after party,’’ Tom continued.

‘‘The what now?’’

‘‘Oh, here they come.’’

Andres, dressed in a pristine, black uniform walked towards their table. He was actually pretty attractive, just like every other waiter Tom would ever hire, presumably. For some reason, his beauty did nothing to April. He was carrying a tray with a pink card box on it.

‘‘There you go,’’ Andres placed the small box on the table between them, made the slightest bow, and went back to the kitchen.

The dessert consisted of three pastries: pink, yellow and blue, respectively. Each one was glazed with a word, so together they read the phrase _Treat Yo Self_. Clearly, when Tom did it, he really did it.

‘‘Speechless, huh? I know,’’ Tom laughed. ‘‘C’mon, try one,’’ he said, grabbing the _Yo_ one himself.

April opted for the pastry with the word _Self_ on it. She was too nervous to eat anything, really, but she could appreciate the mix of sweet flavors, the main of which was apple, with a pinch of cinnamon. Simply delicious.

_Focus._

‘‘So, what’s that Unity Concert you were talking about?’’ April said once her mouth was empty.

‘‘Oh, it’s just a concert Leslie and the others at Parks organized last year. A huge success, lots of famous people came. Leslie had them all come here afterwards, and I’ve never had an empty table ever since.’’

‘‘Are you close with Mrs. Knope?’’

‘‘Pretty close, yeah,’’ Tom looked down and let out a deep sigh. ‘‘We worked together for so many years. I still can’t believe what happened.’’

Apparently, there was softness underneath his arrogance. Tom’s reaction reminded April of the one Bob Newport had had when the subject came up. The journalist didn’t know Leslie –she hadn’t even seen her in person– but one thing was clear: everyone who had ever crossed paths with Leslie had grown fond of her. Everyone, except for one person.

‘‘Did you get to return the favor?’’ April asked.

‘‘Yeah,’’ Tom’s face lit, but there was still a hint of sadness in his eyes. ‘‘I helped her during her campaign. I threw the best fundraising party for her.’’

‘‘Well…’’ April struggled to find the right words. She really felt bad for the guy now, but genuine consolation wasn’t exactly her strength. ‘‘I’m sure she would have won.’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ Tom gave her a sad smile. ‘‘Me too.’’

* * *

Andy was nowhere to be seen when April exited the restaurant. She was about to give him a call when a metallic sound came from the alley on her right.

‘‘There they are!’’ she heard Andy say.

April walked towards the policeman’s voice, only to find him with half of his torso buried in a trash can.

‘‘Andy, what the hell are you doing?’’

‘‘I got them back!’’ he held a pair of sunglasses in the air. ‘‘I dropped them inside while I waited for you,’’ he scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. April couldn’t help but smile. ‘‘Hey, look what I also found!’’

From his pants pocket, Andy took out some colorful paper and handed it to April. It was actually a leaflet, quite crumpled up, but still readable. Leslie’s fundraising party was announced on it, inviting all those who wanted to collaborate to go to her house on October 1st. Exactly the day before the triplets' murder.

‘‘Something happened in that party,’’ April concluded out of the blue, yet sure as hell about it. ‘‘We gotta go to that house again.’’

‘‘But… we already talked to Ben,’’ Andy said, puzzled.

‘‘We _only_ talked to Ben,’’ she corrected him.

April had been right before. They were so close to the truth. So close.


	5. The Journalist

Leslie Knope looked exactly like a woman who had lost not one, not two, but three children. She bore little resemblance to the woman April had seen in pictures back at Andy’s office. The black roots of her otherwise blonde hair were quite grown out, and matched the dark bags under her eyes. Other than that, her face was pale, her skin almost translucent.

‘‘Thanks for having us, Mrs. Knope,’’ April said softly. ‘‘We know this isn’t easy for you.’’

‘‘No problem,’’ Leslie spoke with a monotone voice, her gaze fixed on the cups of tea Ben had just served them. The latter watched with a worried look, as if Leslie could break at any moment. He sat on the couch beside his wife, but never touched her. April figured maybe physical contact was something that woman couldn’t afford anymore. ‘‘It’s the least I can do after everything officer Dwyer has done for us.’’ Right, most people in town still saw him as a hero. ‘‘Sorry I couldn’t meet you guys last time.’’

‘‘So, like I said, April is covering what happened from a different… angle,’’ Andy struggled to put it right. Indeed, Leslie seemed incredibly fragile. ‘‘Y’know, so people out there really know-’’

‘‘-what babysitters are capable of.’’ Leslie finished for him. ‘‘I agree,’’ she shrugged. ‘‘People must know.’’

Despite her lifeless, hoarse voice, Leslie’s words left April in a state of pure awe. Even now, that woman was willing to put the community first – even her own misfortune could be turned into a public service. Leslie wanted to give no matter how little was left for her in this world, if there was anything at all.

‘‘Okay…’’ April began, yet unsure how to broach the gist of their visit. ‘‘Well, now we’re focusing on, you know, what happened before.’’ She stopped there. For some reason, the words wouldn’t come out. Maybe it was her who was breaking down. Damn, she used to be so good at this. And now she was… toolless.

‘‘Just so readers can have a better idea of the context,’’ Andy helped her out, ‘‘can you tell us a little bit more about the fundraising party you guys threw?’’ He took out the colorful brochure, and Ben seemed to cringe at the sight of it. Leslie had no reaction, save for the barest nod of recognition.

‘‘Well, I couldn’t have asked for a better setting,’’ Leslie said. ‘‘My friends from the Parks Department had been helping me with my campaign, and they organized it perfectly.’’ The positivity within the message clashed with the drab cadence of her voice. ‘‘Plus, Tom had all our biggest donors come. And the best catering, too.’’

‘‘From Tom’s Bistro?’’ April asked.

‘‘Yeah.’’

‘‘The pastries were especially good,’’ Ben piped up, probably trying to enhance the brighter side of that doomed evening.

‘‘Treat Yo Self,’’ April scoffed. Now that she liked Tom a little bit more, she had to admit it was kind of funny. Then, she remembered there was no room for fun in the Knope-Wyatt house anymore.

_Inappropriate._

‘‘Wait,’’ Andy frowned, his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. ‘‘Oh, shit.’’

_Inappropriate, the sequel._

‘‘What?’’ April and Ben asked at the same time.

‘‘Did those pastries come inside of some kind of box?’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ Ben said.

‘‘Were they pink by any chance?’’

April nodded as Ben answered affirmatively. Andy jumped to his feet and grabbed April by the hand, causing her to follow suit with a confused look on her face.

‘‘We gotta go,’’ Andy’s words tumbled out. He then turned to the couple in front of them, only now realizing some sort of explanation was needed. ‘‘There’s been a… huh… an emergency. Police stuff.’’

‘‘Wha-?’’

‘‘Thank you for meeting with us,’’ the cop said before dragging April out of the house, though gently enough not to hurt her.

They went down the front porch steps, their hands still clasped together.

‘‘Andy, what the hell?’’ she asked, but didn’t stop. Whatever it was, it probably had to be discussed far from that broken family, so she dashed along until they reached Andy’s car.

‘‘Oh, my God,’’ Andy breathed out once they both had got in.

‘‘Fuck, Andy, if you don’t tell me right n-’’

‘‘The boxes!’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘Remember what Roz Preaker said in her statement?’’

April squinted, trying to remember her previous research and everything she had read about the case since even before she’d been assigned the coverage.

‘‘She found the triplets… eating something from a…’’

 _Oh_.

‘‘pink box,’’ Andy shook his head. ‘‘Roz was telling the truth. She didn’t give them the pastries.’’

‘‘Tom did.’’

‘‘We don’t know that for sure yet, but it’s a possibility.’’

‘‘But wait,’’ April put a hand on Andy’s shoulder. ‘‘Everyone at the party ate those. How come no one else was poisoned?’’

As she spoke, April realized the tables had turned. Now it was her who was asking the questions while Andy seemed to have all the answers. Most of them, at least.

‘‘Well,’’ Andy pondered it. ‘‘Either the kids were poisoned by something else, which is less likely considering they spent most of the evening just playing outside… Or someone poisoned only the pastries in that particular box.’’

‘‘Okay,’’ she processed the facts. ‘‘What do we do now?’’

‘‘For the moment, I’m going to ask for an arrest warrant.’’

April leaned back in her seat as Andy turned the engine on. Her faculties definitely weren’t at their best lately, or maybe she hadn’t truly tested them until now. April’s stay in Pawnee had changed something. Her instincts were failing, all hunches had been misleading. She doubted herself in many ways, but never workwise. Now… well, she didn’t know what to think.

‘‘You okay?’’ Andy asked moments later.

She didn’t answer. Apparently, answers weren’t her thing anymore.

* * *

Andy was late. An ounce of maple syrup was all that remained on April’s plate – indeed, JJ’s waffles were probably the best in the entire country. She was finishing her milkshake, entranced by all those pink and blue beams from the neon lights in the diner, when the door chimes tinkled and Andy entered the place. He spotted her booth after a quick once-over and sat in front of her with an exhausted sigh.

‘‘How did it go?’’ April couldn’t restrain herself.

‘‘He confessed,’’ Andy took off his uniform hat and put it on the table. His forehead was as sweaty as ever, and he wiped it off with one hand.

‘‘But… how?’’

‘‘Well, I can never tell when people are lying to me, so I made him tell the truth,’’ he chuckled. ‘‘Turns out, angry dogs scare the shit out of Tom.’’

‘‘You used the K9s?’’ April smiled at the thought of it.  She pictured Haverford peeing his pants at the interrogation room after only a couple of menacing barks along with showing teeth.

‘‘Just one. Champion.’’

‘‘Awesome,’’ April said in awe. ‘‘So, what’s the story?’’

‘‘Well, as you know, Tom was at that party the night of October 1st. The triplets were playing outside, and everyone else was enjoying themselves and hobnobbing.’’

‘‘Sounds terrible already,’’ April grimaced. ‘‘What about the pastries?’’

‘‘Everybody ate those, like Leslie said. But one of those boxes was different from the rest.’’

‘‘Filled with the poisoned ones.’’

‘‘Uh-huh,’’ Andy nodded. ‘‘Tom kept that one aside until the triplets came into the house to have some water.’’

‘‘And then he offered the pastries to them,’’ April guessed.

‘‘Not exactly. Tom told them he was saving that box to himself, because some Jerry guy was eating them all and he needed a place to hide those in. Reverse psychiatry.’’

April waited, not bothering to correct him. Her milkshake was already warm and forgotten between them.

‘‘Then the children took the box and put it inside one of the kitchen cabinets,’’ Andy went on. ‘‘The party ended after an hour or so, Roz came over, and Leslie and Ben left to that wedding in Seattle.’’

‘‘And the triplets ate the box while the nanny was filling up the bathtub,’’ April recalled Preaker’s testimony.

‘‘Yeah. By the time she came down the stairs to get them, the box was empty.’’

‘‘And their mouths were full. One pastry for each.’’

‘‘Exactly.’’

‘‘I see…’’ April took a moment to reconstruct the facts in her head. ‘‘But wait, what was the motive?’’

‘‘Well, apparently, Jeremy Jamm has some kind of deal with the other Councilmen. He makes… businesses with local entrepreneurs, and gives his peers a share for keeping their mouths shut. Haverford had businesses with Jamm too; that’s probably why he owns so many restaurants and stuff.’’

‘‘But Leslie wouldn’t be bought.’’

‘‘And Tom knew that. So, he was determined to keep her from winning at all costs.’’

‘‘Wow…’’ April half-smiled, even though she knew she shouldn’t. But the fact that they’d made it, that all the right pieces had finally come together, was overwhelming in the best sense. ‘‘Do the Knope-Wyatts know yet?’’

‘‘No. I wanted to tell you first, and I was already running late,’’ he smiled back. ‘‘But Tom’s not leaving that cell, trust me.’’

‘‘Seems like you are not as bad at your job as you thought,’’ April said. ‘‘If it weren’t for you, an innocent woman would have spent the rest of her life in jail for no reason.’’

‘‘Look who’s talking,’’ Andy gestured at her. ‘‘Don’t you think for a second I would have come this far without you. You are the reason I reopened the case to begin with.’’

‘‘Well, technically, you never did,’’ April scoffed.

‘‘Yeah, that’s true,’’ he looked down shyly. ‘‘But seriously, I think you are an amazing journalist. And person.’’

‘‘Shut up,’’ she rolled her eyes.

‘‘So… what will you do now?’’

‘‘Guess I’ll come back to D.C., get a promotion, and go to the next cursed town where something terrible happens,’’ April shrugged. It was the life she’d always wanted, yet something about it didn’t feel right. There was something missing… She would be missing something.

‘‘Well, I’d say Pawnee is already pretty cursed. We’ve got plenty of horrors here.’’

‘‘I would know,’’ April laughed. She was going to miss her own laugh for sure.

‘‘So, anyway,’’ Andy played with the brim of his hat. ‘‘If you ever wanna come back, I’ll be around.’’

‘‘I certainly might.’’

Her words made Andy smile wide, a smile that could move mountains, or even make her stay.

‘‘I should go now,’’ April stood up while she still could and held out a hand for him. ‘‘Thank you for everything, Andy.’’

‘‘No… uh… No problem,’’ his smile faded. He shook her hand, his skin as warm as the first day.

April picked up her bag, as pink and blue as the rest of the place, and walked over the main door. Once outside, she looked toward that shoppe one last time. And then it struck her. Yet again, she found herself letting go of something good, leaving a place free of any sort of alienation for a change, cutting out someone that had made her feel at ease for once. And why? Why that tendency to run away from the slightest hint of happiness?

Maybe she didn’t believe in it. Just like Leslie Knope couldn’t afford any sort of touching, true happiness seemed to come at a high price for April. Andy was fearless in that sense, and honestly, it was scary. Maybe it was in her genes.

_My father killed my mother._

She had to face the facts. Something in her blood just wasn’t right. Not even her foster parents had been able to fix that. The cancer took Elizabeth way too soon. And her death had taken away old Fred’s sanity. Some people just weren’t meant to be happy.

April dialed the number of the cab company, her finger frozen next to the call button.

‘‘Hey, April!’’ Andy’s voice called from the diner’s door.

April looked up. She’d clearly dissociated, but now she noticed the glow off the pavement from the previous rain, reflecting those neon lights and ultimately enhancing Andy’s silhouette by the doorframe.

She wondered, for once, if she could be fearless too.


End file.
